Sail On lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Chris)

[Verse 1: Young Chris]
(Chyeah, yeah, uh-huh)
Gunna! (Sail on!)
Shit was all good while it lasted
But I can't keep on? flowing?
As long as the fiends keep on itchin'
Nigga, the grams keep on sellin'
(That's right!)
Bottom of the roost
From the heart of North Philly
To the top of Hollywood
Model bitches, Cali-good
I got something that they need
That they want
I'm the supplier, shorty
Low numbers on them pretty bitches
And it's FIRE!
Ghetto be my prior
I be the one that they admire
Home of the flier
I gotta become a retire
It's a rap!
I got it from here
Yes I solemnly swear
This is a global introduction, a hottest premiere
Been the fuzziest year
Staring out of my rear
Fuck the pussy police!
We got shotties to air
Never dead body, a pair
Paid a pussies a visit
Never mind being tense
Never fuck a statistic
Never disappearance, and nobody know why he did it
It's just the code of this shit
And we live it
Curren$y kick it
(Uh kick it)

[Verse 2: Curren$y]
Yeah!
One of the masters of the drug flow
Anti-club dress code
I just ignore those
Narnia lions, different dimensions in my wardrobe
Bankin' on the outside of the box like a barcode. (Sail on!)
Like a seven-foot sinna
Spitta don't gotta cross ova
I just stay in the lane
Show off dunks and hang
From my goals obtained
Planes boarded
So I was already soarin'
You smell it in my clothes
Mixed with cologne by Ralph Lauren
Spitta missin'
You lookin' for him?
Take a number nigga
Never home
Gotta call me on the yacht
Floatin' out
Bottles poppin' before I left the dock
Who is that?
In the Vinny Jack?
Bumpin' super cat?
XJ 12
Soft top, retractable shell
Parking near the boat launch in Paris
Spending french bread
Nigga croissants
I got a flow that you can sail on
Yeah!

[Hook: {Curren$y}]
Sail on, Julia! (Yea, yep. They look up to jets nigga, now what they doin?)
Without the fears of ghosts. (Wondering if they-)
Sail on, Julia! (Crookin' their necks and they lookin' up to the JETS.)
Without the fears of ghosts. (From the mansion to the yacht deck.)

[Verse 3: Curren$y]
(Uh)
Spitta is chillin'
Jeans, paper, denim
Milk and Oreos with the double stuffed filling
On the internet
Ordering another engine
For the lavender Chevy
With the suede gray innards
Seen niggas go insane trying to get it
The thought process of a first place winna
JETS nigga!
We enter the dragon, got
Bruce Lee in the go-yard
My lethal kicks cause damage
Vaca. Puff Sour Diesel in the hammy
They hated on it
Said that it could never happen
I waited on em
As my plan was bein mastered
Have patience cause the best is the last laughin'
Slashing, dancing, through my defenders
No look passin'
Bitches in the rapture love my rappin' with a passion
And I'm
New Orleans fliest
Do rewind this
The JETS get the highest
(Uh)

[Hook:]
Sail on, Julia!
Without the fears of ghosts
Sail on, Julia!
Without the fears of ghosts

Got It lyrics - Curren$y

They look up to the...
Fuck boys wonderin...
Bitches know the planes got it
Bitches know the planes got it

[Verse 1:]
Incinerate the streets
The moment that my size 7 Bapes graze concrete
Every step I take bring me closer to the roaster in the villa
Wakin up to chilled mimosas
I do it how a real nigga supposed to
I obligated myself in '02
When I seen Soulja Slim bring that lac truck through
I'm the truth these niggas is daffy
Duck ass niggas keep quackin
But I can't hear ya I got a sound proof cabin
Roll down my window just to pitch out yo wack ass album
I got you hot on the street... literally
I'm like yo promo team my lolo green
10 switches in the button for james bond smoke screen
I'm a hard act to follow
Niggas need luck better rub that log at the apollo

Bitches know the planes got it
Bitches know the planes got it
And you can't do a thang about it
Bitches know the planes go it
Bitches know the planes go it
And that ain't gone change I'm sorry

[Verse 2:]
I'm so sick with it one listen
Might have niggas coughing n sniffling
My pockets is fatter than peter griffin
Green in em like my rollin papers
Had a couple niggas round me that I know was haters
Gave em enough rope to hang themselves that's how I played em
Broke they own necks you see they body swayin
From the ceilings n they mental prisons
Closed minds wasn't open to the fly living
Soon they understand that they never stand over my niggas
Tabulate the statistics
Congratulate the victors
We leave lames as air strike victims
I'm on my shit
These karate carbon copy jockin my kicks
I'm at work in my play clothes
Louis luggage on the racks of the range rove
Murder on the beat cased closed

Power Button lyrics - Curren$y

[Intro:]
Rock astronaut suits by the BBC
Rock astronaut suits by the BBC
Rock astronaut suits by the BBC
Rock astronaut suits by the BBC
Rock astronaut suits by the BBC
Rock astronaut suits by the BBC
Rock astronaut suits by the BBC
Jets nigga
Shout out to the big homie, shout out to Big Ben
Ferris Buller
This ought to be good for like a whole box of lettermans and hoodies and all that shit

[Verse 1:]
Word to Trademark my style need a padlock
Moon man suited up I'm an astronaut
You mad because I does what you cannot
Crib fit for a king, you would swear I had an architect from Camelot
Inspire niggas to go, how could I ever stop giving niggas the hot
The rhymes I rock inspire fly niggas to shop
And bitches rub they titties like they did for big pop
Spitta keep it honest diamonds and dollars
In the Bahamas slice ya wifey like an avocado
Blame it on the moscato, she went crazy with the bottle
Fly Vision, I seen it all through aviator goggles
Las Vegas, heavy wages, stakes raising, poker faces in the red label
All large, I roll up like zig-zag papers
Shocked they ass, give em this taser

[Hook x2:]
I get it on like the power button on the remote
So roll with us or you'll choke on the jet smoke

[Verse 2:]
And I'm so sure that them suckers over there
Ain't making the same shit we making over here
Them niggas switching the rules they ain't even playing fair
Originality seemed to have vanished in the air
I remember a time
Back when niggas could rhyme
A I-Pod and a ride a nigga bumping the tribe
Got my pedal to the metal in my De La Highs
Me, myself, and I
Me myself I'm high
See I sleep in my eyes
Gotta keep a disguise behind enemy lines
By the time they recognize that I have arrived I done entered they mind
Sneaker Freak and baby who could be more sneaker than I
Spitta be the equivalent to a bed of nails
He who sleeps on Spitta will not sleep well
Got cheese and Guac, nigga Taco Bell
I been had this bread it's all moldy and stale

[Hook]

Up Here lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Roddy)

[Verse 1 - Curren$y:]
Niggas know, the lyrical molesting has taken place
Second guess it's spit vicious ain't safe
Concetrated on the album fell back from the tapes
Soon as this is done it's back to square 1
It's the return of the real life live nigga no tint
Ride fly, Don't hide
Record label meetings I'm high in 'em
Got a nigga stressed
They don't want to cut the check
'Less they they feel they'll get a major?
Try to put me in a house nigga suit
So they could present me to the press
But I built my own house and you're an unwelcome guest
My heart, my mind is where I hit my wealth first
My pocket and my bank account came next
C6 'vettes, G-5 jets, 20K bets, while you niggas still in debt
Wondering what I'm doing why haven't I dropped yet
I'm on your bitches mind and a haters neck

[Hook - Curren$y:]
I can't see you niggas from up here
And I can't hear you niggas from up here
So I ain't too concerned you're doing down there
Cause it's that sucka shit and I'll not allow it around here

[Verse 2 - Curren$y:]
When the wheels touch down
You know the jets are in town
Smoking from the personal pound
I leave ground still high after the plane land
Your bitch with me, you left us 17 voice mails
Nigga daaamn
You're myspaceing and facebooking, looking for your girl
To no avail, she's been tooken
Spitta and that jet music what she get used to
Can't beat us, can't join us neither
We don't need ya, got the eye's on the prize my nigga
We don't see ya, niggas starving for attention
So they throwin' bait to the sky fly fishin'
I ain't trippin cause them separatists ain't even in a nigga division
This is real rap, them niggas is real whack
I'm standing in the customer service return line
With my microphone, trying to bring hip hop back

[Hook - Curren$y:]
I can't see you niggas from up here
And I can't hear you niggas from up here
So I ain't too concerned what you're doing down there
Cause it's that sucka shit and I'll not allow it around here

[Verse 3 - Young Roddy:]
Since the clock don't stop I'm getting money in the rush
All the shit that I heard, I kept it on the hush
And I'm fly as fuck, I don't need no kush
Just smelling like purple haze mixed with the million bucks
And mamma told me: hold it down, she doesn't ask for much
So I'm on my gefferson shit, I'm movin up
And my Texas homie told me that in a year they'll screw me up
And never will I ever touch girl without guts
Real niggas call it skills and fake niggas call it luck
So most niggas pay vaginas, so most niggas get fucked
And I still run the city like a RTA bus
But I'm still hard to find like a diamond in the rough
Yeah a trendsetter so they copy how I do mine
And nigga switch to this hustle when I got a new grind
We keep jars of kush, no grey poupon
And circle locked and safe, nah, we don't need no new guys

[Hook - Curren$y]

Food 4 Thought lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Amanda Diva & Mickey Factz)

[Verse 1 - Curren$y:]
Burn slow like joints of purple
Hot Spitta, jet nigga ya'll know
Roll 84 down bumpy roads
Take Kanye advice: drive slow
Niggas think they tough they not macho
They soft, soggy nachos
That's mine doggie not yo's
Style, gear, ya got it from here
No worries, raps I got plenty to share
I'm on top I did my ground work last year
You could pass go you could pass the ball
But don't pass me the reggie that you're growing in your backyard
Shit might hurt me fuck my raps off
Aurora Borealis blast make me blast off
I came I kicked that shit
Shoulda took my Chris Webber Air Max off

[Hook:]
Come on and take a bite
Of this food for thought
Let it ease your mind
Let it take control

[Verse 2 - Mickey Factz:]
I was born in Roswell
Performed and dropped hell
It's the lyrical Norman Rockwell
And I have to be seen
Call me the king looking for my Alexander McQueen
Mean, I'm giving soul food to protools
That go through your brain waves, you like it don't you?
Don't move, and ya'll won't late
It's John Coultrane with this raw propane
I line 'em up like we on Soul Train
Cause rappers stink like raw Lo Mein
And I paint pictures like Claude Monet
So when you listen to me it's like you snort cocaine
I scored [?]
She heard of me
It's Mick Jordan chillin with Steve Curren$y
Emergency, come talk to a beast
Whose givin' you food for thought
It's all you can eat
PEACE

[Hook]

[Verse 3 - Amanda Diva:]
Hot like pepper pot
Sweet like sour sop
West side born
But the spice isle in my heart
Boss like the man Barack
People listen when I talk
Start of the movement
I'm the spark that got the game on lock
Took my spot
I foxed the lot
Didn't see me coming
Bgirl I can pop and lock
But Got them boys running man
Like water they want it and I got it drippin
A lady they buggin if they think they'll be sippin
On this nectar
Next to greatness empress of the rhythm
Rising to the top/ like cream of the crop
I redeem all the little women like Alcott
Give em someone to believe in not a black girl lost
And the table's been set we preparing a feast
Something for the mind spirit and the body
Cookin up the future with these rhymes and beats
So go and get out the kitchen if you can stand the heat

Galaxy lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Dee Low, Jean Lephare & Wodinsky)

[Verse 1:]
Uh now why you want to go and do that love?
A pretty thing like you in this wack club
I'm figurin you should tell your friends that your exiting
With spitta, remember the one who rode in your direction
That's him that's me came here one deep
Tryna leave plus one the ship got two seats
I can tell by your size 3 jordan OG's
That your hip to the fly mama where you hide your wings
I'm sure when your out men say strange things
Grabbin ya, shakin ya, breathin stankin ya face n shit
They the pilots for one night relationships
My neihbors rich I just lay back and do spit
Ya hungry? I can check in the fridge
Throw somethin together I can cook a lil bit
Right quick pancakes bacon n cheese grits
She textin her friend like girl this nigga the shit

[Hook x2:]
Welcome to my galaxy
Come and feel my energy
Ain't nothin but space around
And you can be my star
And you could be my star

[Verse 2:]
Uh, let's fly over your home
Higher than 30000 feet pass the ozone
Pass the joint to the nigga with the mild tone
Mama how quick can you put your digits in my cell phone
I switch em like I do my kicks and this is well known
Look how I switch two different girls in the same song
Say its wrong but who do we place the blame on
Games we play because on us they was played on
Dead wrong but don't make it right
And the patron is telling us to call it a night
We tryin fight the urge to splurge and blow purp
Watch revenge of the nerds fuck until we both hurt
Girl our heavy bottomless in the fly society shirt
Doobie in that villa you are not of this earth
The doctor who delivered you witnessed the stars birth
I was here before her but she still came first

[Hook]

Look Up To The Jets lyrics - Curren$y

[Hook:]
They look up to the jets nigga where haven't we been yet...
Fuck boys wondering if they bitch next
Bitches know the planes got it
No dope boy, I'm in the kitchen with crack tracks
Cooking up another batch
Motherfucker you know...

[Verse 1 - Curren$y:]
Brazilian bitches rolling my green leaves
Laying with they clothes off
Mahfucka I'm spitta, proved to niggas I wasn't a quitta
They thought it was over until the Jets took over
Act like you don't see it pimpin look up we cloud surf
Homie you can have the streets the sky is my turf
My work done doubled over the summer you in trouble
Cause the labels know I'm sure to do my numbers
The checks get cut like chef sliced cucumbers
Rocked first season BBC to the season opener
Half time we probably with the club owners
It ain't enough room in this city
About to land planes on some niggas houses yes
Homie come up out it this is our shit
Ask your girl who she rep she say jets
And in the steps of Michael Jordan
I won't claim to be the best
I just let my work speak for itself

[Hook]

[Verse 2:]
Bitches know the planes got it
Had it in the back so long I forgot about it
Club couch with a purple cloud around it
Bitches crowd around it I just lay back on my shy shit
Me and Young Roddy on our high shit
We don't know the difference between yo bitch or our bitch
But it was clear when your bitch got in my whip
Hot Spitta my music the soundtrack to the life every rich nigga
Niggas familiar with Recaro interior and rear mounted engines
My addiction to luxury livin is serious
Recording in a padded room my flow is delirious

[Hook]

Top Of The Money lyrics - Curren$y

Yea... Yea... Yea.
This ain't no mixtape
Damn we might has just named my album
Yea... Yea... uh.

Grey polo sweats, yellow gold rolex
Blue facial mask, ya'll niggas ain't on that
One of the best rappers, you havent heard yet
Though over the years I've enjoyed my success
Where would underground rap be minus the jets?
At home living inside it's all kind of depressed
Gotta watch where I step, there's all kind of traps
Trying to keep me on the ground, I ain't got time for that
Trying to put me in my rhymes where we supposed to be at
Fly society mansion with swimming pools in the back
New Orleans what's happenin?
Yea your dude is back
Might see me in traffic in the Caprice classic
With the windows crackin, it's me flicking my ashes
Cut the check and I cash it
Blow it all on glasses
95 air maxes and mad pounds of Cali
No socks with the bad ones them bitches keep lookin at me

[Chorus:]
I'm on top of the money [x3]
Like the dope boy mattress.
Passin broads in my car they be pointin at it
I'm on top of the money, like the dope boy mattress
I'm on top of the money [x3]
Like the dope boy mattress.
Passin broads in my car they be pointin at it
I'm on top of the money
Like the dope boy mattress

I'm on top of the money
Like the dope boy mattress
Got deals on the table, silverwares and napkins
The right moves they help me take care of my family
Two coups will make me more of a chick magnet
Spitter destined for greatness I always knew it would happen
I just laid in the Gap like one of the store mannequins
From the back burnin my attack I was plannin it
And now I'm bendin corners in the Nomad Wagon
Sittin them 22s with the staggered fittin
Fishtail tail whippin I'm burnin rubber my tires spinnin
Spittin what I'm livin never lyin in my lines
I'm the truth in the booth hit it real when I rhyme
They see me on my grind and they be like aw shit
Spitta fly that plane he gon make em all rich
We just do our thing we don't listen to your shit
We just listen to ourselves we the niggas ya'll fit

[Chorus]

mixtape: "How Fly" (2009) - Curren$y (with WIZ KHALIFA)



Car Service lyrics - Curren$y (with Wiz Khalifa)

[Wiz Khalifa:]
Clear the run way baby
I get money from sunday to sunday lady
Oh behave I'm young, rich, famous
Tryin to keep my pockets on schwarzenegger
O.G in my swisher so my blunt taste flavor
Don't it
Ya'll niggas can get it if you want it
Tryna catch a flight I'm in the back seat playing Xbox
Car service just chillen
Burners in the wall
Money all through the ceiling
Hit Spitta on the phone
Tell my dawg that we killin, these fuckin blogs
They love a star and I'm flashin'
Life just like a movie, no casting
Asked if the game kinda slow
But I'm a treat it like a ashton
Pedal to the medal I'm mashin
All we know is big money, medical weed, and fashion
So try your best to imagine,
Bro

[Chorus:]
I'm rollin' up another one
Starring out this
Window, window, window, windoww
They tellin' me to change how I'm livin'
But it's all I knoww
Seen it in every city on my
Way out to another one, nother one, nother one, nother onee
You find me anywhere that paper go (go)
Ohhh (ohhhh) ohh

[Curren$y:]
Bone ribs, double s's, with the flow shifts
Windows 20/20 clear, beat these 20's on the rear
Order da car service
If I feel as though I don't want to steer [?]
Bitches freeze in the xenon head lights, like a deer
But not out of fear, she lookin'
Cause there's money over here
Shine from above these land lovers, I'm a chandelier
My girl gotta pocket bubbler in her purse
She keep it G and pack the bowl
With weed and let me hit it first
Ain't tryna be a hogg dawgy
All I want is what I'm worth
80 days, 80 stages baby all around the earth
Amazing race for the paper you suckers eatin' dirt
Chew some orbit gum, brush your teeth,
And scrape your tongue
Fresh as they come, second to none
Pretty woman flirt battin eyelashes they need guidance
Lace them up like my new balance
And keep flyin'
The closest that you lames ever came
To the planes was a palm pilot

[Chorus:]
I'm rollin' up another one
Starring out this
Window, window, window, windoww
They tellin' me to change how I'm livin'
But it's all I knoww
Seen it in every city on my
Way out to another one, nother one, nother one, nother onee
You find me anywhere that paper go (go)
Ohhh (ohhhh) ohh

The Check Point lyrics - Curren$y (with Wiz Khalifa)

[Wiz Khalifa:]
Yeaaahhh bitch
The Jets and the Taylor gang
Champagne, paper planes
You already know what it is man
Young Khalifa, my nigga spitta
Yeah

Only living material, as long as the money straight they wanna see me fall
But I got a crib that's over looking the city though,
When a lot of bitches who wanna get in our videos
Ten to twelve hour long trips, bong rips
I ain't interested in what you sellin I run my own shit
Made it through a long list, did my all
Some will talk slick, but no contest, I'm dead stressed
That's why the bitches love me,
She leavin you to come where the liquor and drugs be
I'm glass floor now you passport and over seas we watchin the sun rise,
Smoke a joint out on the beach
Write my name in the sand, I
Never beena nigga who had a lucky nothin you can say everything I planned out,
Now stand out,
I fell asleep on the plane and woke up to people screamin my name

[Chorus:]
No matter which way I go, they tell me don't take that road
But I never put my foot on the brake oh no,
I Nnever put my foot on the break oh no, ah no oh
I don' think it's wrong (Jets)
Doin a hundred but they tell me to take it slow (Nigga)
But I never put my foot on the break oh no (It's the Planes and the Taylor Gang)
I never put my foot on the break oh no, ah no oh (Got your bitches slippin off their wedding rings)

[Curren$y:]
Livin the life is just me,
Some bitches my niggas in a crib full of vices
But I don't do drugs, just weed
Caution flags wave, and fuck it I still speed
And proceed to give them what they waitin for
Daytona 500 guess who lightin joints up in the race car
Play hard, but I work way harder to afford
Boats, put your women on the water let 'em boogie board
Slightly older still, sexy broad, think give me more
Just strip for me without the tease, give me more
Still rockin Golden Eye on the Nintendo 64
Sayin they don't make 'em like this anymore
Same goes for my whip, same goes for my kicks, rare
And I don't rush to the store, they save me a pair
Yeah, a nigga livin in the air
Spending more time in the clouds then I spend on the ground
Do the opposite, fuck takin advice from these clowns
That's why I mash the gas when they tell me slow down
Yeaaa

[Chorus:]
No matter which way I go, they tell me don't take that road
But I never put my foot on the brake oh no,
I Never put my foot on the break oh no, ah no oh
I don' think it's wrong
Doin a hundred but they tell me to take it slow
But I never put my foot on the break oh no
I never put my foot on the break oh no, ah no oh

The Planes lyrics - Curren$y (with Wiz Khalifa)

[Chorus:]
I guarantee you leave the club with us you won't be the same
They can't help it c'mon these bitches know it's The Planes
Let all my money talk for me, what more can I say
That money will be seen, as soon as I put my key
You put your key in, money we'll be seein'
We'll reach the fuckin' ceilin', yeah yeah yeah yeah
I put my key, you put your feet in, money we'll be seein'
We'll reach the fuckin' ceilin', yeah yeah yeah yeah

[Curren$y:]
My car ride by without the boomin' system
I'd rather spend that loot on my engine
Oh, hail to the chief, I been one helluva indian
But settlin' in teepees ain't sittin' well with me see
I need plenty green acres
And easy wider papers
Got the OG game in me sega
Bulls verses lasers to the left
I played her, but you treat her right
Sucka what I get in one night
You wait a couple months for
You love her, I cut up
She woke and I was gone only weed crumbs on the cover
Yeah spitta get it like that
Just how I said it in my raps respect it don't I keep it real
Said I fuck you good and disappear, ain't that what I did?
Niggas talkin' down on the planes better shut up
I'm fed up, waitin' on valet to pull my vet up
You better get up
Trynna be cute bitch I'm a leave you
Her home girl she said "please" too,
She no crazy

[Chorus]

[Wiz Khalifa:]
Drunk nights goin' through my phone tryna figure out which one I want to get at
You already home cookin' and grindin' my weed for me, I just left the club but I'll be there in a minute
Take the lock off the door
And that way you won't even have to listen for me
Oh yeah, and leave some light on in the kitchen darlin'
I mess with the baddest hoes
Gotta go overseas to buy their clothes
Trees she got 'em rolled
Don't gotta deal with jealousy cause she not involved
Ain't trippin' on her man cause she got her own, yeah
Independent as can be still I'm the one they're calling
Be there then I'm in the wind no breakfast in the morning
Phil, I'm in and out like it's fast food
People get to know me say I'm more than just a rap dude
Pay the cost to be the boss - no tax due
Now my money feelin' like it's tattooed

[Chorus]

Fly Niggas Do Fly Things lyrics - Curren$y (with Wiz Khalifa)

[Intro: Wiz Khalifa]
Young Khalifa, man. How fly
We already a quarter pound in on this one
How are you?
Yeah, we killing these blogs!
You already know my nigga
Ain't no turning back now! This shit on smash

[Verse 1: Wiz Khalifa]
Influenced by the reefer but I'm still positively speaking
Heading down to New Orleans fuck with Spitta for a weekend
Exotic bitches freakin, minks on the rug
I'm living Cliquot dreams, pouring drinks in the tub
One life to live, so I'm a live it up
Like you gotta pay for pussy, nigga
I don't give a fuck. Blowing awesome new threads
Chickens give me new head
One look at my charm, they say I ain't doing too bad!
My palms itching like you did when you rolled in grass
Flick another joint, I'm here but I just hope it lasts
On the beach with my amoebas smoking hella-Zags
Love the life we lead but we just make a toast and laugh
You say another day, I see it as another plane
Another dollar, another reason to ensure the fame
Every city they repping, they know my name
We the Gang, Taylor painted on the wing

[Hook: Curren$y]
On the road to riches and diamond rings
Fly niggas do fly things
Take the pictures in the Chevy is the song we sing
Kids looking up to me cause I'm a G

[Verse 2: Curren$y]
Would it be cliche to start my verse
Saying something that I always say?
The planes got it, I perfected my roll in the sunset
Aeronautics, I swear on my soul I would never cosign
Some nonsense. Muscle car auction, I just cop it
And then go ride it. Wait for the night to set
Then really pop it and drive it. Bitches run on the side of it
Like those little Jamaican kids who saw that benz with Buns and Ox inside it
Word to Wale, Spitta OT in DC for 4 or 5 days
I got enough J's in my? bag
Smelling like a pound, TSA what they looking at?
Wanna pat me down, came up with nothing cousin
Pull away from ground transportation puffin!
Baking kush berry muffins
Mind on a million, trying to get this shit is puzzling
In the grand scheme of things, where you sit in this discussion?

[Hook: Spitta]
On the road to riches and diamond rings
Fly niggas do fly things
Take the pictures in the Chevy is the song we sing
Kids looking up to me cause I'm a G

In The Middle lyrics - Curren$y (with Wiz Khalifa)

[Verse 1: Curren$y]
It's the planes and the the Taylor Gang!
And I'm
Fuckin' with the Chronic cause' the Chronic give me dopness
Center of the camera focus
Once the Car Service doors open
I'm with a chick you only seen on magazine covers posing
I really know this bitch
I won't tell you I got it unless I could show you it
I'm not gon' tell you about it unless I got through it
Formula One car, code word for solo whip
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you I'm cool
Weed lit
Lights flipped up on the Porsche
The same model Tony escaped from the club with
When them haters tried to knock him off
That's cold
Destroyer of the track I am Spitta Destro
You in the club line obeying the dress code
I drive by
Bitches making googley eyes
Google me Ma
I do that music so beautifully huh?
Believe that
JETS nigga retweet that

[Hook: Curren$y]
And In the Middle we stay calm we just drop bombs
In the Middle we stay calm we just drop we just drop
In the Middle we stay calm we just drop bombs
In the Middle we stay calm we just drop we just drop

[Verse 2: Wiz]
Yeah
Gang
Plus
Planes
JETS Taylor Gang
You know the slang
Bad bitches feeding me Champagne
Show up smelling like weed on the plane
People cut they eyes but they don't say shit
Rep Taylor Gang plus the Planes bitch
Polo Socks
Bad Bitches dig em cause' they know the flow so hot
They be at my shows hoping one day they can meet us
And maybe we'll smoke
I ain't on no Hollywood shit
You sexy and know how to handle your weed?
You probably could bitch
Bong rips send us to Hong Kong trips
My life is a movie stick to the script
Can tell that it's quality before it's lit
He is I and I am him
Some bitches a lot of weed and gin
Tattoos cover my skin
Hoes scream Taylor Gang out they roof
Plus they love the JETS music
Uh huh yeah
Lemme hear it

Drunk Dialing lyrics - Curren$y (with Wiz Khalifa)

[Verse 1: Curren$y]
Uh the club lite turn to sunrise
You know I still ain't done right
Skip my place and take you to yo crib
I'm trynna roll a mega joint, raid yo fridge
You got the ps3 you love yo kid
I'm a play his shit since he not here
And I still got a fetish for other niggas hoes
Still keep the tooth brush in my car
With some basketball shorts and tha charger for my phone
You never know what will happen, spontaneous action
In the city of the Mardi Gras parade and gun clappin, quarterbacking
Not the center but I'm snapping bones
Shorty don't be smoking like that she grown
Leon phelps, hugh hef rider flow
Boogie nights at the roxbury, Which way should we go huh?

[Hook: Curren$y]
6 in the morn'
But I don't wanna go home
So I'm driving from the club alone
Hoping one of these hoes answer they phones
(Got these bitches slippin' of they wedding rings)
(It's the planes and the gang)

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]
Yeah, 6 am chicks we slay them
Knowing favorite songs picks we play them
I ain't on some some big ol' star ship, but tell you I sure afford it
My lifestyle, all the visuals are gorgeous
Spend nights out couple bitches at the fortress
Got all these lil hoes addicted, cause if it ain't broke then it's rich bitch
I'm ridin' in my ride getting lifted
Thinkin' which chick I'm a bruce lee kick with
I roll another joint to start my mission
And hella watch her watch my prevision
Need a nigga that don't care what it cost him
Say you scarred of heights but admit the view is awesome
And the weathers great, roll another plane, celebrate
And I'm in the sky so she ask me how I'm fly

[Hook]

Friendly lyrics - Wiz Khalifa (feat. Curren$y)

[Curren$y:]
By the strength of the quality weed smell
You can tell that I'm somewhere in the building on my Batman shit
Niggas suspended from the ceiling
Not really, but that's the way the weed got me feeling
Got a low rise in Venice
Mami you got the vision and I see it HD
And it couldn't be any clearer
You should be with Spitta
And you know that this your chance, don't blow it like birthday candles
Good guy Spitta keep his name outta them scandals
It's not a secret, I prefer my girls in sneakers, never sandals
Posing naked in only a pair of Nike Vandals
Bottles pop, back to back
Extra large chronic sack
Cellphone, camera's out
Mama I remember that
Anytime I look at that
I go to wondering where you at
So baby where you at
With it
I'm just tryna hit it on the friendly
And maybe we get back up in a minute

[Chorus: x2]
Fast cars
Fly clothes
G5's flying on the seashores
Get it
Baby I'm just tryna hit it on the friendly
So tell me if you is
Or if you isn't
With it
(Yeah)

[Wiz Khalifa:]
Listen, if you with it, get in
What you sipping
Hit it out of the park
That's if you pitching
First you look at me wrong
Like uh uh, no he didn't
Then you turn into rubbing on me
You start to give in, get it
By the beach, watching tennis
Crack another bottle of Perignon
Louis V carry-ons when you visit
Sending all them singles in your sidekick sentence
Then I reply like be there in a minute
Just put me and Curren$y on your friend list
The weed come from a village
Truck tire, sour diesel scented, that's real shit
From smelling this she wanna see how the cigar taste
We lighting reefer bumping 808's & heartbreaks
Skinny broad but out them jeans she got a heart shape
Skip the movie date and take her to the horse race
And let you bet it all keep the winnings
Young entrepreneur give you the business, dig it (Yeah)

[Chorus: x2]
Fast cars
Fly clothes
G5's flying on the seashores
Get it
Baby I'm just tryna hit it on the friendly
So tell me if you is
Or if you isn't
With it
(Yeah)

The Life lyrics - Curren$y (with Wiz Khalifa)

Yeah! It's young Khalifa man, Currensy the hot spitta
Look in the mirror man ask yourself one thing hahahaha
How Fly yeahhh

[Wiz Khalifa:]
Foot on the gas, I'm fast living picture me I ain't have no pot to piss in
Now I'm checking bags cheif and hash with politicans helicopter pads some hoes
To get to know and hella zags, no tagss. I ain't one to brag but if you ain't trying to hear
About the money drugs and women then I ain't one to asskkk. Smoke so much that I'm
Going brain dead Hoes mad at me cause my phone off until my plane land. I tell her
Whoa!... slow down baby the spitta with me it's enough to go round lady, you drive by
I give her wings redbull and Jim buckets of a couple paper planes broadcasting my
Name over internet airwaves bitches hear me on twitter put my music on there
Myspace pagess. yeah! if you smoke then roll up and play this me and hot spitta
Come where the planes is

[Curren$y:]
She said she wants to sip clicquot on my living room floor smoke weed hang with
Other famous people I know gain access to exculsive places I go lavesh and dangerous
Is the life I chose, but I wouldn't change it for nothing Sex, money and drugs wrong way
Sports cars and luggage better to be somebody for one day then to be a nobody for your
Whole life so fuck it! yeah get the cork out the bottle put the purp in the easy wider
Spitta in the house, hide your lighters I take em, a case I mistake them indented in
My bed for I could'ntswore I brought this one in with me in the cinnamion interior 9 10 to
Early 80's buy chevy with a great engine. high jacking your women you left her
Unattened Dr. jackle and Mr. Fly when I'm on that liqour the way of the samarui
I got my chi centered sharp as blades these bars I lay forever the player and
Never played I slay them bitches I never save, bomb ass trees they get blazed
Palm trees we use them for the shade, What else can I say I got it made
Like I had it built taylor gang or get killed. Yeah!

Surface To Air lyrics - Curren$y (with Wiz Khalifa)

{Uh Jets nigga now where haven't we... they look up to jets nigga now where haven't we... fuck boys wondering if the bitch next}

[Curren$y:]
Ask yaself... how fly... the planes and the taylor gang... [x7]

Haters stand clear of em, ya'll stand cheer for em, shook away from lames and over came let's here it for em'
Zig zag smoke, magic lyrics appear to em', Outta nowhere air hare jordans...
Kicked up sittin' behind a mahogany desk, crumblin' 'erb just as Big Boi and Andre would suggest
Flow sick need a check up, flow sick that's how I got my checks up
Bad bitches gold diggin' lame niggas out a trip to foreign places or bracelet or necklace
Then slide through the set and fuck the JETS cause' she respect us
You think you got a winner, but you don't I bet she let us (lettuce)
Pickles, tomatos, onions, mayo, mustard, and ketchup... the works!
Driving in a aquifina truck to the club cause Wiz told me that these bitches was thirst
Crash test dummy honey need a helmet cause she jumping head first
It's amazing how I get so high and stay so down to Earth

[Chorus:]
Uhhh, ain't nah niggas iller, explosive and fly, surface to air missile
Uhhh, ol' sucka ass nigga go somewhere and fuck yourself cause ain't nobody fuckin' with us
You didn't put 100 on it then you can't hit it.'
Me and my nigga Wiz will smoke an ounce in one sittin'
Yeaa, it's the Planes and the Taylor Gang, lame niggas puttin' locks and chains on they bitches

[Wiz Khalifa:]
Smoke filled rooms, camera lens zooms from a mile away you smell the fumes
College girls play me in their ipod or zune
Even bitches with bad attitudes bumpin' to our tunes, they high maintenance
Give em' wings let em' fly places, introduce you to high times, flavors, and sky scrapers
Rollin' in lime papers and Randy's, smokin' out somewhere where the sand be. Plan B killin' these kids
Not Michael Jackson, I ain't feeling these kids, and you hatin' such a shame that's where your energy is
I'm in a Gfizz flying, leave your bitches with the planes now she sky diving. Hella vibin'
And your hating adds just more steam, more chips now I'm living more Rothstein
So for every thing it's worth, I travel all four corners of the Earth putting in work

[Chorus:]
Uhhh, ain't nah niggas iller, explosive and fly, surface to air missile
Uhhh, ol' sucka ass nigga go somewhere and fuck yourself cause ain't nobody fuckin' with us
You didn't put 100 on it then you can't hit it.'
Me and my nigga Wiz will smoke an ounce in one sittin'
Yeaa, it's the Planes and the Taylor Gang, lame niggas puttin' locks and chains on they bitches

Over The Building lyrics - Curren$y

[Hook:]
I'm in the air all I want is the money and I see it so clear,
Weed in my grinder, mine on a million
Taylor gang on the planes, you know we over the building,
If they ask me how fly, I'm a tell ya
If you reconize game, I should be looking familiar,
If they ask me how fly, I'm a tell ya
If you reconize a G, I should be lookin familiar,

[Verse 1:]
Party and chillin and fast livin how I'm suppose too,
Not the choices given, I chose too,
Leave the club with a couple of hoes who,
Love to smoke trees, rolling it e-z widers,
Paper maintain a low speed, now should I proceed,
Come from a city where niggas ain't got a lot,
But got it locked, so I be low key,
Money, hoes, clothes is all a nigga knows,
Don't bring enough I blow it by the O,
I hit the road, cause shit is exactly how it seems,
Why cat's been sleeping on me I been livin out my dream,
The marijuana is loud but my sorroundings are soreem,
I'm laughin and smoking hoping my camera catch the scene,
Fresh up out the plane, flick another paper,
Shorty wanna ride with me as bad as I wanna taker her,
Put you in demand bitches taking flicks with the planes,
And send them to their friends,
Weed the grind mine on a million, and we over the building

[Hook:]
I'm in the air all I want is the money and I see it so clear,
Weed in my grinder, mine on a million
Taylor gang on the planes, you know we over the building,
If they ask me how fly, I'm a tell ya
If you reconize game, I should be looking familiar,
If they ask me how fly, I'm a tell ya
If you reconize a G, I should be lookin familiar,

[Verse 2: Curren$y]
And I'm livin like a balla Loc,
I'm having money and blowing hella chronic smoke,
Did we just become best friends with these hoes,
On a boat well, probably so but we don't love them no,
Only can cake causes my heart to palpitate darling,
Clean that money keep this dirty ball revolving,
No pausing, I get too high to have downtime,
No matter what your watch say nigga it's my time,
I hear them critics right now "all them fools make is weed songs" blah blah blah,
You sound like a sucka, tune ya out,
As I'm tuning up my Chevelle, this weekend I'm a pull it out,
Lay some rubber down, slanging rocks everywhere, people mad as a mothafucka,
But he jet connected, so they know they can't touch em,
Airborn from here on, been sworn in,
Fat pockets, cause I took chance even when they were slim

[Hook:]
I'm in the air all I want is the money and I see it so clear,
Weed in my grinder, mine on a million
Taylor gang on the planes, you know we over the building,
If they ask me how fly, I'm a tell ya
If you reconize game, I should be looking familiar,
If they ask me how fly, I'm a tell ya
If you reconize a G, I should be lookin familiar

Rollin Up lyrics - Curren$y (with Wiz Khalifa)

[Chorus x2]
And I'mma keep rolling up
Put the weed low when the police is rolling up
Fool all I know is go and try to let them haters slow me up
Stashing for my (insert)?
They balling when they old enough

[Curren$y]
Yeah, jets nigga
As if I had to say it, spitta
In the middle of every bad Bitches playlist
I tunes banging from my hotel room
Nothing but beats bitch
Fuck it when I die I could sleep Bitch
My momma need a bigger crib so I need this money g
King kong aint got shit on me
My face is a coupon
I don't know them but they know me
Bitches pitch it, like pitchers
But I'm smart not a wild swinger careful at what I'm hitting
Burners in the sofa cushion careful where you sitting
Aint in to nothing crazy keep it for them crazy niggas
G fizz [?] fly holla at wiz, catch the steelers
Smelling like high time at the 50 yard line
Ushers bugging wanna check our tickets

[Chorus]

[Wiz Khalifa]
And um, my niggas the planes back
Getting full off of dinner but save scraps
Never know when a rainy day may hap-
Pen pictures out of my life and Bitches I Taylor gang that
Me and spitta, spend a grand at the bar
Buying drinks for my niggas
Hoes selling they souls just to be with us
On the road with winners, champions
Ride smoking weed to myself the only reason they stress
Because I'm on the level you can't be in
And I flick the middle finger to fake friends
We live like when the loyalty is strong you can't bend
We the planes and all of my niggas stamped in
Billionaire clothes out in Vegas fucking Millionaire hoes
I'm in the air solo
You know where near close
Went and took the road this youngin here chose
Smoking it by the "O"

[Chorus]

mixtape: "Fin..." (2008)




Lysol lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Roddy)

("Fin..." Version)

[Sample - Jay Z & Lucifer:]
Jets nigga, where haven't we... uhh
Bitches know the Planes got it

F-I-N dot dot dot

[Verse 1 - Curren$y:]
That's Spitta Ain't it?
That nigga internet famous
Fresh while its painted
Pass the joint to the cat he came with
Speaking the codes
Landlovers don't know the pilot language
Everytime we hear you niggas bite our style we change it
Everytime you try to holla at a dime
She say she taken
And if you do get a bad one and bring her round us she's taken
These rappers is acting gay
6 degrees of seperation
I swear them niggas kicks like my Nike Air Bakins
I'm at the hobby shop
I'm in the R-I-C racing
Smashed my gas-powered viper and now I need a replacement
I got that to plu on pluto
That space shit
They must of told you not to say the "S" word in your raps cause we heard your joints you ain't say shit
Clear the lane
Make way for the planes bitch
You think she a model but to us she just a plain bitch
Your girlfriend will forever be The Planes bitch

[Lucifer Beat]

[Verse 2 - Young Roddy:]
Fly Society
Now its major league cash so them niggas call us bankers
Big bob marley blunts
We call them stankers
Hold the hood down so them niggas call us anchors
And ain't shit change
The judge still get the finger
Call up Mr. Robinson
They never see my angle
Out in Cincinnatti like I'm betting on the Bengals
Look how I stack my chips up like pringles
And they say I ask to ass I mean anal
And I bet I get paid far as the game go
Stack them all up until the singles
Back when they bumped Cutless Mindless and regals
My hoopgroup you gon hold like tivo
And jets fly the globe like beatles
Sharper than a razor
On point like needles
That word to my main mamacita
They used to laugh at me
Now I'm bumping through their speakers
Like "Hell yeah, feel getting that money legal"

[Lucifer Beat]

The Explanation lyrics - Curren$y

Spitta nigga you know me or either you know of me
Witnessed traces of my swagger
But it was being presented to you by other rappers
These niggas is actors, consumed by their roles
Thinking that they are really that nigga they created in their fictitious lyrics
Perfect example given, of life imitating art
These niggas is lost in the sauce
I'm partying in a downtown loft
Thanking God that I'm finally getting on
And praying for the talented rappers who still off
What a nigga gotta do to get through?
Do I gotta record a verse in auto-tune too? Shit
Let me stay away from that
Before niggas misconstrue it and label this a diss track
These are just facts, spitta snap like a slim jim
You just realizing that I'm that nigga homeboy I been him
Could keep the mixtapes up month to month continuously
But I figured that my words would lose their validity
To the ingrates who don't appreciate my mixtapes
Taking for granted my rhymes
Because they hearing new ones all the time
I'm about to take a sabbatical dog
And let these late bloomers get hip to spitta's catalog
Real niggas I'm not turning my back on ya'll
Real bitches I ain't giving up on rap for ya'll
I'm just pausing for the people who slow
And let them learn the shit you already know

Muthafucka you know
Bitches know the planes got it
Jets nigga, where haven't we been yet?
My name is in the streets, my name is my name

We Made It lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Trademark Da Skydiver)

[Verse 1 - Curren$y:]
Spitta nigga any beat I get on I get off into my zone
Think we gotta 7 grams left of that zone
'Bout to call my girl and tell her bring another one from home
I get it on like the power button on the television remote
So hold roll with us or you choke on that jet smoke
Niggas know the jet smoke, the best from both coasts
I got plugs like an extension cord cause
Spitta bring it back like you fucked up my
Order at the drive through can a nigga really rap
Homie, are the Devils from Duke, Blue?
Ride off the block bitches try to jump in the sunroof (it's so true)
And I ain't got no feathers in my seat but that's your chick in my coupe

Nothin' but a G thing baby, two East side niggas going crazy
FS is the set we made it
Laughing at them bitch niggas they hatin'

[Verse 2 - Trademark Da Skydiver:]
Trademark the force with me I'm dead eye
My flow priceless you can't cop it at Best Buy
And to the tech sign, ts just a test drive
Like a broke nigga trying to cop an X5
They waiting on me to drop, like the next live
I'm just smoking trine thinking of my next line
I'm so focused like professor x man
Kicks fire, wrist ice plus my neck shine
Yes I'm that fly, multiply 10 times
Divided by my swag and this is what you have
Foreign whips, chicks and a lotta cash
Big money sacks they looking like lotto bags
I'm blowing that fire weed we call it the hydro hash
Sports car trunk in the front two on the dash
I take off from run wheels and hella pass
Boat launch triggered ghost out like [?]

Nothin' but a G thing baby, two East side niggas going crazy
FS is the set we made it
Laughing at them bitch niggas they hatin'

Da City lyrics - Curren$y

[Intro:]
Yeah, turn it up a little bit
I remember this from the beginning of Menace II Society
I started wearing my socks high after that too

Spitta that nigga rap slow live fast
Six fo with the switch box under the dash
327 rat underneath the hood
Got it growling like something need to be in the woods
Just dipping through the city where the choppas fire
Young niggas on the set like they filming the wire
Seen my homeboy Dip last month got hit
With a shotgun blast but he survived the shit
Bitches talkin bout Spitta say the nigga so clean
I swear he got chlorine in his veins
Made my low low lean like it sip codeine
Executive suggest that Spitta better switch up his flow for the cheese
I don't comply and complain
They try to tempt me but I restrain
Refuse to compromise, I won't change
Like I vow to forever where the same thing, yeah

New Day lyrics - Curren$y

I would be pleased if you rolled my weed
Because I'm sober as a cobra
I'm sitting on the floor, you on the sofa massaging my shoulders
Only me and you and none of my homies coming over
Cause I already called and told them we'll be local until the morning
Pouring up mimosa, Tropicana and Don P
You drunk and full of weed and on E and horny and on me
I got that knockout, I beat it up until you fall asleep
Your home-girl been in these sheets before
Don't act like she ain't told you in the streets
He cool and calm but in the bed he so controlling
Said I'm something serious, and that's what got you curious
Your eyes are the windows to your inner thoughts
And darling, you got your curtains drawn back and your blinds up
Now I know there's nothing running through your mind
Beside the thought of pulling your thong to the side and letting me behind ya
Got a handful of that pretty hair and I hope it's yours
Cause I'm gon be pulling on it like it's tug of war
Bout' to fall from the bed to the floor
Tomorrow both of us will be sore, that's for sure
But I hope you ain't to hurt to fuck once more
And before we knew it, last night done turned into a...

3AM lyrics - Curren$y

Uh, Jets nigga
Uh, Jets nigga (yeah)

Nigga start I was sleeping

Yeah yeah... yeah

I got freaks in the living room getting it on
And they ain't leaving till 6 in the morning
No disrespect to Snoop, I'm a switch it up
I get sleepy round 3am
I don't trust them hoes, somebody better come and pick them bitches up
I ain't bringing them home in my trunk
Oh grimy ass bitches, you know how they be
Riding in your shit, drop them off at your crib
Next minute you realise you missing CD's
Can't run G on the G
I know what it look like
Think you fast enough to pass me
Trying to pull the wool over my eyes
But I see the gimmicks, the whack lyrics
The shit is depressing, I came to fix it
Flow butter scream my raps over your biscuits
These niggas claim that their shit so sick
That they spitting, I must be immune to it
Cause I don't get it I talk that shit, I roll with it
I talk that shit, I'm smoking it
I talk that shit, I'm so immit

Yeah

mixtape: "Fast Times At Ridgemont Fly" (2008)

Intro lyrics - Curren$y

("Fast Times At Ridgemont Fly" Version)

This my favorite part though
Ohh shit, haha cause we know we finished

Yep, another month, another take
I could waste my time with bullshit instructions like, roll somethin' up or pour somethin' up
But if ya'll fucking with me you should already have it rolled up or poured up
Month six, Fast Times at Ridgemont Fly
Let my boy just talk for a minute
(Float on, Float on)
The Floaters if you don't know
Don't download it, buy it for real
Support real music
I give y'all enough free music
So y'all shouldn't have to pirate quality music
Cause I give y'all free quality music every month
This is month six... Fast Times at Ridgemont Fly

Trademark the Skydiver is at Subway diggin' the sandwitches
And Mr. Marcelo is sleeping on the floor
Dickies engineering the sessions, as he always does
Got his gray doorag on, it's hangin' in the back
I don't really agree with that, but it's alright I'm not really trippin'
Haha, and he's still upset that the Lakers lost
And even Brett Favre is fucking with the Jets
So we don't have too much to complain about
And I just dropped a roach in the Burger King cup I hope my brother won't drink from it
If so, you're skrewed
Fast Times at Ridgemont Fly...

Modern Day Hippie lyrics - Curren$y

[Verse 1 - Currensy:]
My satelite trippin', I watch TV at your girl house
My homies fell through, we had a smoke-out at your girl house
Dropped ashes everywhere, burnt holes in your girl's couch
Put a pillow over it
I was gone before she noticed it
Just a glimpse into the daily happenings
Of one of them flyest to ever try his wings at this rappin' shit
In love with the rap hustle, I never turned my back on it
I run after money that's why them bitches run after me
Whack rappers on a dope beat: simple battery
Hot Spitta on any beat: that's a fatality
Vicious how you do it? I don't know it just comes naturally
Spitters Spicoli, Zig-Zag
Rollin' with my Cali homies
My patience for the middle man has run out
Take me to the boss like the Mike Tyson code-own punch out
I'm really on my grind
You just lookin' for a ride
Like you standin' on the side of the road with your dumb mouth

[Hook x2 - Currensy:]
Spitta is chillin'
The Planes in the buildin'
The bitches like us cause they say we different
From all them other niggas say they just not with it
Smoke and make music, I'm a modern day hippie

[Verse 2 - Currensy:]
Still on my New Orleans shit, asthmatic
Spitta keep a bag of Dolium and some prolactin mist
I'm as vicious as it get
This is rap with rabies
I got a fetish for Chevy's created in the 80s
And you say you riding old schools too, you all mistaking
That's a 190E, just a old ass Mercedes
Know a lot of niggas hate me cause my pockets getting cakey
These fuck boys can't see the paper that The Plane see
Bumping Paper Planes by M.I.A
I'm partying in M.I.A
My bitches looking for me say I'm M.I.A
They trying to spy on me like the CIA
Call Cheaters on me, I just say "Homie"
Then I cruise the other way

[Hook x2]

Roll My Shit lyrics - Curren$y

[Verse 1 - Curren$y:]
Got niggas like, "Don't me and Spitta be rhymin' alike?"
Never, not on your life, you on thin ice
I'm at P.F. Chang's, I'm on shrimp fried rice
My name is my name, you know my name right
C-U-Double R-E-N-Dollar Sign-Y in the hell are we not signed
Your guess as good as mine, I gotta few offers
But you know how they do, they low ball ya
Izzle got a Impala
I'm a get one too cause I don't want to ask if I can borrow
His shit so I got my own
In front the club, block my car off with the cones
Don't let nobody get in my spot when I'm gone
I might come back around this bitch
Watch these hoes as they walk out
Tha'ts the only way to see what they really look like
Cause you can't trust the mother fuckin' club lights
I might, seek out something proper
Models twisted off Ciroc vodka
A fitted t-shirt, married to the Mob one
Kick game proper, super sky tops
Millionaire frames, tail blue aqua
Just my style, you can't ride in the Lotus
One question, baby can you roll this...

[Hook:]
I need a bad bitch to roll my shit
I'm looking for a bad bitch to roll my shit
I can play the PlayStation while you roll my shit
Or I can write a rap while you roll my shit
I only let bad bitches roll my shit
I'm looking for a bad bitch to roll my shit

[Verse 2 - Curren$y:]
I'm in my '85 Chevrolet short bed
Bad as I want to, can't speed up
Cause the homegirl rolling the weed up
She roll 4 out a $50 bag of reefer
She called it the purple people eater
We got high started talking about threesomes
Told me about the time she was only fucking females
Broke it down into every single detail (Sheesh)
Babygirl save some of that for me
A day in the life of a New Orleans G
Don.t play with ya life in these New Orleans streets
I don.t start shit that.s why them girls love me
They know I'm chill, they know I'm real
Assassin with the gifts, Spitta dressed to kill
I will Pittsburgh steal your chick
But if she can't roll joints you can keep that bitch

[Hook:]
I need a bad bitch to roll my shit
I'm looking for a bad bitch to roll my shit
I can play the PlayStation while you roll my shit
Or I can write a rap while you roll my shit
I only let bad bitches roll my shit
I'm looking for a bad bitch to roll my shit

Still That Nigga lyrics - Curren$y

Yeah, It's still FS nigga, Jet Set nigga
Rome my block west coast cell phone I got hoes locked
So my California visits be prop ass broads, with cannabis cards
Hard top like convertible cars, niggas thought I sold mine
Brother you out your mother fucking mind
I am still that nigga, wood grain wheels, still the Laguna SS
Freddy Kruger SB's on the gas I step, accelerating niggas get left, right
Try to gimmy crap mother fucker no dice, spitta snap like the back of my Bape hat
Don't ask where I got it I hate that, I'm connected people I get it where they make it at
At the Lakers game me and tk sitting adjacent to Jack, give them a couple seconds to compute that
This that spitter shit bitch don't confuse that
We have these other dudes rap peace and love hell raise uh uh dude
My straps cruising in my Escalade eating fruit snacks
I'm on my big kid shit got rich bought all the things I couldn't get when I wanted them
Got it all full of dimes and hundreds, I can only ride one of them
Back in the G they made fun of them now they labels telling em you need to do one with him, yeah yeah

Fast Times lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Mr. Marcelo)

[Curren$y:]
Yeah, JETS Nigga

[Mumbling] "These fast times at Ridgemont Fly " [x3]
YEAH, yeah, YEAH, Jets nigga Where haven't we been

Niggas thought that I would of fell off by now, but I didn't
I never run out of lyrics, I never run out of bitches
I never lost a race after I bought my crate engine,
Never forget a face, but names I don't remember sometime
Unless the Pussy was bomb, I gotta fly Asian model
She look like Mulan, she tattooed a airplane on her forearm
To show her dedication, you fuckin with the planes Ma
Can't fuck with them lames now, them niggas small change now
Ain't it different over here, ain't my diamonds way more clear
Them losers wifing prostitutes like Richard Gear in Pretty Woman
I just keep it movin in my retro number 3s, you remember the royal blue ones
I show you how to do it, rock quality selvedge, none of my sneakers got blue streaks on em'
Bumpin Notorious Big - Warning, hold on I hear somebody comin'

[Mr. Marcelo:]
I am that man from the interstates, doin' one seven eight
Bathing Apes to the pedal, I am on another level
Black on black insides hell yeah I'm in the dark
Four four bulldog full I will let it bark
Light tints, no incense, just weed smoke
Feelin like I'm ridin on water in the speed boat
Top back, gun cocked, just incase a hater run up on me
Bet this zombie gonna stop him like a stopwatch
I roll through every hood hell yeah I'm good
If not, I will make it jump like hopscotch
No doubt niggas, know bitches, know 'Celo
The definition of a nigga raised by the ghetto
Niggas say I been around, I say I'm a be around
Good smoke keep high, you will never see me down

The Good Part lyrics - Curren$y

[Intro:]
Yeah
These Fast Times at Ridgemont Fly [x3]
Jets, uh

[Verse:]
What you want to do?
Y'all want to be ballers, shot callers, brawlers
Who be dipping in the Benz with the spoilers
This beat cool but let's skip to the good part
I'm that nigga
Been had lyrics since tapes
And the rise of the plane continues
It's Mr. Clean Kicks speaking
More dunks than the contest at NBA All-Star Weekend
Jodeci flow, I got the girl feenin'
Your ho keep my name in her mouth more than my semen
See man, you a little jackass like Wee Man
Louis Vuitton E-L-A-N high tops
High as hell
At a very posh Hollywood night spot
Celebrity bitches [?] in the club
They fight amongst the stars like Sky Fox
Cocky I'm not
But I do look down at you players in the game
Like I'm sitting in a sky box
I stop never
You rappers got a month to get your shit together
Yeah

Still Ridin' lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Street Wiz & Young Roddy)

[Intro]

[Verse 1 - Curren$y:]
I'm the hottest thing in the street
Ya'll ain't got nothing for me
Crib already off the hook, and I ain't talking about buyin' a book
When I say I'm about to add another story
Nigga in the club, twisted and bent
Bitches on my nuts like a socket wrench
To say that I spit, would make no sense
Do mixtapes for free, I made no cents
My pockets ain't hurting, I can flaunt my skills a little bit
Y'all thinking my money spent, but its in a vent
Spitta in a boot homie, that is an event
Spitta cop a coup, you niggas trying to rent
Bring these fool gazey ass niggas to the light
Prove they counterfeit
I am on my Puff Daddy thing
Make bad girls sing like Danity Kane
It's the fast life, word to the re-up game
Took a couple seats out the plane, made more room to dance
FS Jets got the world wide wingspan
Listenin' to nature, talk about Sega
Dream Cast NBA 2k until the plane land
And I still got the iceberg sweats, you see them
Money so old it should be in a museum

[Hook x2:]
And we still ridin', can't take nothing from us
The planes got it
Fast cars, fast women, fast dollars
Wouldn't give it up for nothing I promise

[Verse 2 - Young Roddy:]
And I'm a rinse it off if the money bloody
I'm sticking to the strip, dollar signs over bunnies
Raw the fly thief rock a Louis V skully
Ain't a better smell than new money
No shit, can I breathe I'm just trying to do yougin'
Scream 'Fuck the cop' refer to my nigga Tubby
Momma got back like a camera to Buffy
Old school gangster, word to that nigga bump me
And I'm all about the Benjamins, word to that nigga Puffy
Niggas gonna hate, but the bitches gonna love me
And now they want half of my cheddar, I find it funny
But I'm no fool, I know I get this chance once
So fuck a finger roll I'm going to hit a slam-dunk
Yeah Yao Ming, look how tall I stand up
I'm from trey first street baby, us niggas man up
Overnight look how shorty came up

[Hook x2]

[Verse 3 - Street Wiz:]
F.L.Y. Gang, we sitting from a range
High up up in the game, Spitta lead the way
While we running through the flames
The heat will never last, so we coming for the change
Non-stop hustle, but the muscle to the grain
Survival of the illest, jet gunning through the lane
Skyline living, hella smoking out my brain
But her focus, my pimpin' up on the poles up in the ring
Yeah nigga and I ain't even tripping on the weather
Whatever the degrees, its like I'm pitching for the cheddar
It's magic when you can see it sitting up my sleeve
And when the time is right, I'm going to shift it in the breeze
Money, cash, dough, It keep me lifted high for the ride
That's why the jets zipping past go
Catch me on another level, in my swag mode
Dougy Fresh dress, bitches on my tadpole, G

[Hook x2]

Summer Reading List lyrics - Curren$y

This time for all the marbles ya'll
If not now then when
Spit vicious and proud of it
In the future
My city will build monuments
Listin my accomplishments
Like the soles on my Jordan 10s
Rock the Ralph Lauren cardigan
2008 gone with the wind
Curren$y is starrin in major motion pictures
Life of the set
Killin em with the charisma
Fly private jets with the wifey
Continental for the side piece
But atleast it's first class shit
Bitches be happy for a shot
At that first class dick
Her carry on bag got the purp stashed in
Ride around blastin
Empty Delaware punch cans for the ashes
Serious as a heart attack
Doin my own thing
And ghost writin on the side
Homie try Cyrano de Bergerac
Better lookin
Hope I didn't go over your head
I read alot of books man
In the studio burnin the pound
Loakin on a plant of the Junior Brown
Make fly tracks
Those go to the Zune
Bumpin in the airport
Walkin with a Crooks & Castle duffle full of shoes
My girl got the roll away Lou
She hold a nigga down
So I lace her up
I drive her vet
And let her take my truck
Niggas mad
I see em every second
They turnin greener
The envy eatin em up
They gettin thinner
Stephen King writin
Keep the lame niggas frightened
Air Max 95s
Red & Green
NBA Live
Sega Genesis
OG
Nigga what you think this is
Straight up on the real pimpin'
Square biz

Brett Favre lyrics - Curren$y

Yea... Yea... On Everything
It's just I know that bitch so cool...
These are fast times at Ridgemont Fly
These are fast times at Ridgemont Fly
These are fast times at Ridgemont Fly

In n Out

Rise and shine
Penthouse suite surrounded by dimes
All of em asleep, recoverin
From a wild night with my brother n them
Car blocked in, fuck it take my brother's benz
Thinkin bout scoopin up Chick-fil-A
'Till I remember they closed on Sunday
Ride up a one way
Same block where niggas hand off rocks like coach called the wrong play
Even Brett Favre rockin' with the Jets
Spitta in the mix like chex
Chex Mix in the bowl in the green room of the Conan O'Brien show
They say I'm up next
Ask Marc Ecko if my flow complex
Bitches I mold them like Play-Doh
Travel the globe like a crook ducking Carmen Sandiego
Crooks & Castles watch and frames, my crew neck by Play Cloths
See lames I push up on they hoes
Like "Mama what u doin with them amateurs?
You should be messing with a player of my caliber."
The difference between Rosé and Franzia
Month after month I always come back for ya
Look me in the eyes know what's looking back at ya...
Your opportunity to be a passenger
On a jet that's destined to land up top
You can roll, if not eat dirt while we laugh at ya

In n Out

Jets Nigga

Soundtrack To Success lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Trademark Da Skydiver)

[Trademark the Skydiver:]
Been on some other shit
Fly clothes, expensive kicks
They say my swag immaculate
And I agree that's accurate
Fuckin hoes and stackin chips
Ice on my neck and wrists
Blowin down a pound of piff
Ridin round in foreign whips
Flyin saucer Porsche
Yea I call that bitch the aero ship
Hatas hatin on my click
And on the slick we loving it
This rap shit we runnin it
Niggas ain't fuckin with the planes
What you think we in the game for the fun of it?
Ehh
Nah, this the takeover
Burnin down your empire that's game over
Not J-I-double G-A Hova
But Skydiver the jet fighter
I'm so focused
28 bar inferno I'm flamethrowin
Nigga been potent way before the game noticed
And these rap niggas is bogus
Talkin reckless over tracks
But I fire back with pure perfection
Steps above clever
How I use my letters
But em together and send em out
Just like I'm textin a message
Diamond in the rough
Princess cuts on my neckless
I'm eatin Franklin for lunch
Purp blunts for breakfast
Your lil tips is brunch crumbs
I'm not impressed with
Hold On
Won't you give me a second to digest this
Then I shit on these niggas $pitta tell em!

[Curren$y:]
Y'all ain't got shit on my nigga

[Trademark the Skydiver:]
You should quit while you ahead with the bread
Just a suggestion
We scrape your whole plate
Then double back for seconds
If we getting cake is no longer a question
We still count loot up from last years investments
Ask your hoe
She know I'm one of the freshest out
I spit it out
Like my chest was congested
Let that bitch breathe!

[Curren$y:]
Nah Sky Diver let the bitch leave
Ol' raggedy broad I ain't never need
Bitches is on speed
Fuckin like rabbits
They hungry
Followin my carrots
Housed in my ring
Lookin like 46 upside down Cristal bottles sittin in a basket
UFC these beats
Any track can get its ass whipped
I am on my cheddar
All about checks like solecollector.com
Some of y'all ain't on that
Ya'll behind
Sucka niggas get on whacks in startin line
Fairy tale once upon a time ass niggas
Goin out they minds tryna out rhyme Spitta
Let that bitch breathe
No
Sky Diver knocked them out
I came through with the elbow drop from the top rope

mixtape: "Super Tecmo Bowl" (2008)



I Did It Myself lyrics - Curren$y

New Orleans everyday all right [x3]
Cause they show love when I did it myself

[Verse 1:]
Yeah, park the car open the door slide my feet out
Sneak another pull in before I put the weed out
You know what I be bout Nike head but I own a couple pairs of Reeboks
Throwback, it's the Pump fury, now if it would please the jury
May I present the evidence that Spitter is hotter than whoever?
I call em common critters, I do not consider them competitors
I put em on ice like I'm dressing my bezel up
My bitch told me "Baby I think they scared of you"
I use they necks to build a ladder I step up
Sucka ass niggas thought they had me I crept up, and that's where they messed up
Don't e-mail or send a text message, if you wasn't around when a nigga was stressing
Talk your ass off but you can't lock my blessing
Every hurdle that I crossed I was learning a lesson
Putting off for my city like Jeezy and Kanye
My future so bright I limo tinted my shades
Helicopter shades fucking up my girls hairdo
Helipad on a Superdome roof yeah

New Orleans everyday all right
Cause they show love when I did it myself

[Verse 2:]
Uh, the hottest nigga in the street
You ain't gotta ask boss, 17 chevys
With my label advance cooler Hot Wheels off with my frosty hands them haters getting sick of you man
Bitches wanna save the last dance, I'm cool
My home boy Mel gave me these shoes, you crazy? won't fuck up these spikes for you baby
Plus these the red black and green ones, the mean ones I was watching MTV when I first seen them
Niggas ain't similar to the Hot Spitter or the way I sling these syllables
Fuck around with him and your condition will be critical
Jive ass niggas who talk that shit about the crew
Til I come around then they hit me with "What's happening fool?"
Get lost off a short cliff take a walk
Number crunch ball park figures
Bout to buy a major league ballpark nigga
I do it for my city cause my city made me realer
Curren$y da Hot Spitta if you know somebody sicka you better call the bioteam to quarantine that nigga

Selfish lyrics - Curren$y

High spending that nigga, in the club fresh like I'm dressed to take pictures
Full of that liquor, Ryder keep on popping rozay, and Dre keep twisting those swishers
Man we living, and these hoes know that, recognize my face, I pause for that Kodak moment
Homies ten door ronie walked up on me and said she was rolling, this how we going, but she can't sleep in my crib because my girl will be home in the morning. I'm so sorry, but I'm trilling the bong whistle got a stack of money ready to peel and you can get it sike
See a trick iv'e never been, baby down that road iv'e never went
What I look like giving you half my chips like you roll half my fly ass shit biatch

[Chorus:]
Maybe I'm selfish, I did it all on my own you ain't help bitch [x2]

mixtape: "Fear And Loathing In New Orleans" (2008)



Title Track lyrics - Curren$y

[Verse:]
Streetcars banging up St. Charles
New Orleans is a work in progress
I can't afford to take the day off
My young niggas stacking up money off the eight balls
And they ain't never stepped in a pool hall
Shit's starting to break my heart
Cause I don't want that life for my niggas
I know we can be so much bigger
If the light got shined on my city
The world would be trippin'
Off how many talented people was in it
Other niggas had they little 15 minutes
And they ain't know what to do with it
But wait 'til I get it
I'm a stretch it like Armstrong
A million miles long
Plus, I'm a put a bunch of other niggas on
Spitta showin' love, he's far from selfish
I see a nigga strugglin', you know I'm a help him
Show my niggas how to go from ballin' to wealthy
And raise they kids up real nice and healthy
The streets so hot, all the road signs meltin'
I stay above that, I'm a fly ass falcon
Last night a nigga got clapped with a Magnum
The headshots made it look like Mahicans scalped him
My brother in the window with a chopper like Malcolm
While I'm in the homemade soundbooth rappin'
He say I got too much talent
And a flow that can change things
So that can make me a target of a hatin' assassin
Cause we done seen the worst of it happen before
The homie Slim got murdered right when he was about to blow
It's fear and loathing in the NO
Demons comin' from wild angles
The shit is wild dangerous
But I'm maintaining my cool like John Elway
Or Miles Davis
The first rap I wrote was five pages full of bullshit and lies
About me killin' niggas and flippin' pies
But when I got by myself, I found myself
And realized that if I was a child in these times
I wouldn't want to follow in the steps of these guys
Clown ass rappers
I'm waiting for the day that they primetime the realness
And sideline the whackness
The good niggas can't get in the real game
No matter how much promise we showin' at practice
Niggas listen to my mixtapes and jack my swagger
Get on TV with it, and then I gotta look at it
Good thing I got a sense of humor
So when it happens, I'm laughin'
They just makin' it more easier for me to travel on them
Run the snap on 'em, it's a wrap on 'em
Chronicles of a swag donor
Give five mics to the rightful owner
So we can wake hip-hop out of her coma
Spitta, yeah

[Outro:]
Just like that
Four months on the road, nigga
F.S., Jets
Yeah, where haven't we been yet
Shout-outs to Smash

What Means The World To Me lyrics - Curren$y

What mean the world to me
Other than my God, my family and my music, would probably be my cars
My kicks and my louie scarves
I'm sick, when I rap I cough, call me mr good bars
I be with cali ovar and we rip that cali O hard, but me I'm from the east
I parked a bunch o fancy cars on these misused streets
I ain't done a lot yet but my momma so proud of me
I'm a break my back to see her sittin on a pile o cheese
Walkin around pettin my pockets for my impala keys
Found em in a sofa cushion with a pack o easy widers
And two bags o purple kush
I even found a zippo lighter, I'm excited homie
I can't hide it, I can't wait to light it
Your girl in the cock cause she tryna meet the pilot
My stock is steady risin, my top drop when I'm ridin
My volume at the highest
That's the only that I can way I can hear the music
Cause this motor ain't quiet
Don't ask if its for sale homie, cause you can't buy it
Damn nigga let me get a chance to drive it
My goal when I rap is to make listeners rewind it
And play it for their partners and say spitta got some nice shit

Open House lyrics - Curren$y

My bathtub lift up my walls do a 360
Hot Spitta visionary from the crescent city
Wallabee clarks blowing cream crispy
Shout out to Tony Starks you influenced me immensely
Niggas tried to rob me out my place in history
That's why its meant for me to put these mini me's out of they misery
Barking mindy nikes bmx bikes
Grown child big kid this is my life
I went left and it seems that decision was right
Cause my buzz so loud you can hear it in your sleep at night
It ain't even been a month yet
Mutha-fuckin niggas is back J-E-Ts
Curren$y Da Hot Spitta spread love every four weeks
Still hotter than poppa bears porridge
Still got the 63' drop top in storage
I'm a pull it out when the weather get gorgeous
And smoke out with the pedal to the floor on it
Niggas throwing salt I'm ignoring it
Hot Spitta standing in his own dookie he is on his shit

Bitches know the planes got it
Bitches know the planes got it

And I almost forgot...

My name is in the streets...

And my name...

Is my name...

Intergalactic Society lyrics - Curren$y

[Talking:]
You all know I be on some other shit
Fear and Loathing in New Orleans
This beat so crazy I really only have to talk on it

[Rapping:]
9 in the morn' hoes on my floor
Bitches in the bed, skeezas on the couch
Chickas in the kitchen tryna fix a nigga cheese grits
Hopein that a nigga don't put them out

They know they in the presence of the freshest nigga out
He who raps for the south
Leave a lotta niggas with they feet in they mouth
Because they said I couldn't keep puttin hot shit out

Raps what I got
A deals what I'm not
I do it on my own
And this is why I'm hot
And this is what I'm bout to do
Get a chevy caprice and paint it yellow and green like mountain dew

Inside smellin like a pound or two
In the uk I'm a monster dude
Your raps will be worth by the pound or two
I get money
You dress funny
Don't leave your girlfriend next to me
You'll have to an APB on your woman
Chump change, shit chat, I can't do it
You wanna talk business, I speak that fluent

[Intergalatic hook]

[Talking:]
Shit man, this nigga stop me right at the end of the verse
So that's how we gotta end it, I gotta stop you so I can talk my shit
Cause if I wouldn't have stopped you the beastie boys would have got their shoutout

Gettin' Money lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Trademark Da Skydiver)

[Hook x2 - Trademark Da Skydiver:]
We gettin' that money nigga, we touchin that paper pimpin'
Helicopters on them yachts, drop that top on that Bentley
And all we blow is piffy, that's yo big bushy with me
Wake up in the sky, we might just be flying over your city

[Verse 1 - Trademark Da Skydiver:]
You on a flight with Curren$y and Da Skydiver now throw the peace sign to the pilot
Free-fall from 60, 000 without no 'shute, but it's cool, we gone guide you straight to the bottom
Yeah mo' money, mo' bitches, mo' flyness
Me and lil' Spitta hoppin' out that Maybach coupe, land-lovers thinkin' it's a problem
Stupid when it come down my dollars, you little chickens get nada, not even Prada
The only thing I'm upping is some bubble gum and dick for you to swallow
And where I go lil' mama wanna follow, somewhere on a island, no it ain't Hawaii, nor the Bahamas
So ducked off GPS couldn't find me, know I spit fire, no need to remind me
Spitta [?] like it ain't no problem, pop that clip like a gangsta mobster
I love that cheese, I need that mozzarella fella I don't know no better
Touch my swiss you get wet up, eat that beef like it came with lettuce
We fuckin' these freaks because they let us
Niggas hatin' on on my clique but we gettin' that cheddar

[Hook x2]

[Verse 2 - Curren$y:]
Ten grand Gucci sweat pants, white tee, Nike headband
Dressed like it's 1999 but the coupe so up to date man
Blew the roof on the interstate
The cops tried to chase so they can check my plates
Used all the muscle in that V8 cause I know my shit ain't up to date
But anyway, these hoes already know the deal when they see my face
"Where you gone be when I leave? My car gotta empty seat"
Do you smoke? Got some weed
Bitch you pop? Got some E
No I don't fuck with the shit but my niggas distribute it so I can get it for free
Shorty you need to be fuckin' with me, look at the nigga you be with now
Then take a look at a G, that's a big difference huh?

[Hook x2]

mixtape: "Welcome To The Winner's Circle" (2008)



The Only Thing That Matters lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Street Wiz)

Yeah, Ooooohoohoohoo
(Welcome to the Winner's Circle, nigga)

[Curren$y:]
My girl kickin' a buzz in my ear, it's gon' snow
Guess I'll grab the white tee and the chinchilla coat
Game time, front row, court side
Lakers in the Eighties, baby- that's showtime

And I grind like Venture Trucks
That's a shout to my skateboard homies, what's up
Yeah, life is a bumpy road
But that money make the ride a lot smoother like shocks and struts

Yeah, shout out to my homie, Mr. Fab
Next time I'm in the Bay
We can smoke a hundred blunts on your school bus
F.S. Jets in God We Trust

Lame niggas lyin' to they bitches
Sayin' that they hang with us
We was in the same club
But that don't mean that you came with us

Better get it together
Can't be around duck-ass niggas
I'm allergic to the feathers
Yeah, it's whatever whenever
If the [?]
Result in me getting cheddar

From the very beginning, I just felt I was better
Than a lot of these niggas, they are not on my level
You are not competition, just a step on the ladder
Top of the division, write my name on the banner
F.S. Jets, Winning is the only thing that matters

From the very beginning, I knew that I was better
Than a lot of these niggas, they are not on my level
You are not competition, Just a step on the ladder
Top of the division, write my name on the banner

F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters
(F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters)
F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters
(F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters)

From the very beginning, I knew that I was better
Than a lot of these niggas, they are not on my level
You are not competition, Just a step on the ladder
Top of the division, write my name on the banner

F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters
(F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters)
F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters
(F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters)

[Street Wiz:]
Fly with the fliest
We comin' through the airwaves
Worldwide high sky Fly until the next day

Yeah, that money on my mind constant
I'm steady flippin' numbers
'Til I'm off my mind countin'

[?]
Swag off the chain
Go run and tell about it
We staring in the lane

F.S. Jet Gang
You can check the highlights
Look we live the High Life

You catch me on the cloud 9
With my brain soakin'
Focused in the game
Look I see the lane open

I'm going for the shot
Gain points 'til it's over
Forever gettin' mine
Look I'm clever with the grind

Check the safe place
Look it's lavish with the [?]
I'm runnin' outta time
But I ain't really trippin'

I gotta a lot left
To turn eternal work into some [?]
Yeah

From the very beginning, I knew that I was better
Than a lot of these niggas, they are not on the level
You are not competition, Just a step on my ladder
Top of the division, write my name on the banner

F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters
(F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters)
F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters
(F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters)

From the very beginning, I knew that I was better
Than a lot of these niggas, they are not on my level
You are not competition, Just a step on the ladder
Top of the division, write my name on the banner

F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters
(F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters)
F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters
(F.S. Jets, winning is the only thing that matters)

Who Styled Ya lyrics - Curren$y

Thou shall not front on real shit
Aww hell
Face a thousand deaths
From Mr. Spit Vicious
I go hard like concrete floors
Make bitches legs open like lambo doors
Up, Out
Nigga rock the first season DBC to Mr. Chow
My ghetto chick orderin food she cant pronounce
Eat mama
Let it stick to your ribs
But no pics
Tell your friends bout the shit that we did
Cuz I cant have no evidence
Of me hangin with other chicks
Floatin round
Wifey tryna fight me on some Springer shit
It's Curren$y
Or you can call me Mr. Clean Kicks
My day job consists of business first
And video games
Bong hits and pullin skirts
Vacationing month long trips
Scamp of the Earth
I'm tryna find what any
All do was in search of
Was it love
Not sho
But I know
That ya man Hot Spitta aint
One of these niggas who
Don't know how to dress
So they swagga jack Jigga
Wait to see him on stage wit it
Then they internet shop until they get it
I saw they same thing happen to me
Niggas laughed at my Steez
Now they wearin DC's
Fashion misfits
I'm fashion gifted
You niggas Boo Boo
Find Yogi
Crash a picnic
Spitta, yea

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